Chapter 106: How Far We've Come

Chapter 106: How Far We've Come

Saf is a country forged in struggle. It is a product of countless exigencies and torments pressing upon it from all borders. Our conflicts with the Bulu and the Ardans have done more to shape our nation than any twist of theological debate held in Khems hallowed halls. Therefore it is in times of war that we see the greatest potential for growth.

We conceive of nations as solid, resilient creatures, but they only seem so because we compare them to the changeable nature of our own selves. Indeed, when we are reforged as different men daily by the crucible of war, it is difficult to notice the mark of ten years upon a nation.

But as a nation or a man, we must take the change into ourselves wholeheartedly. If we do not, and we indulge in the lure of a self that exists only in our memories, then we risk being crushed by the tides of an uncaring world. Nostalgia is a luxury; to cater to its whims is to declare war on change itself - and there is no power yet that has emerged victorious from that battle.

- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687

They rose early the next morning, bidding farewell to the abandoned village and continuing along the coastal road. Marcus had not been entirely misleading in his comment about the weather; it was by no means a warm day, but the coastal wind blew warmer than the chill, dry interior air. Combined with the constant presence of the sea beside them, it made for a pleasant enough trip.

It was almost enough to distract Michael from an anxiety that had built within him while he sat, sleepless, watching the stars turn over their camp. He had imagined the coming fight, the confrontation with Luc and Ardalt. What they might do, and what he might do in response. Who he would be at the end. He saw several answers to that question in his midnight thoughts, most of them frightening. It left him with an acid, itching burn in his chest that had persisted even as they walked through the relative idyll of south Ghar.

Richter had handed out simple meals of bread, fruit and hard cheese that morning. Michael tried his utmost to savor his, knowing that it would take some luck to keep their supplies stocked with the former two items while in the field. The thought chased a smile to his lips. He imagined what Helene would say if she heard him talking fondly of a bruised winter apple and stale bread.

Youre doing it again, Sobriquet noted. Smiling for no reason.

Michael snorted. Im thinking about how life changes, he said. I could say the same about you, theres a definite bounce in your step.

Its nice here, she said defensively. Quiet. Its the first time in months that I havent been surrounded by people that scream their importance out into the world, tottering around under their secrets and plots. Ive had a headache of one sort or another ever since we set out after Luc - until now.

Michael gave her a questioning look, tapping a finger against his chest; she laughed. Im used to you, she said. Besides, I already know all your secrets.

All of them? he asked, raising an eyebrow. Thats a bit presumptuous of you.

All of the important ones. She nudged him sideways with her hip. But yes, my opinion of Ghar is rising dramatically now that were outside of Gharon. All of the intrigue and peril can stay up there. Theres barely anyone around here, and none of them are doing more than minding their business. Its - incredibly refreshing.

Michael blinked, looking around. There are people here? he asked. I thought it was entirely deserted.

Farmers, Sobriquet shrugged. Like I said, people minding their own business. Its not as though this place needs the great Empire of Ghar in order to be habitable; a man growing a bit of food and raising chickens can survive just as well no matter what state the governments in. She chuckled. Perhaps better, as nobody is bothering him for taxes.

It all does tend to fall apart when a massive foreign army lands on your shores, Michael pointed out.

She nodded. It does at that. But for these past few centuries Mendian has been a sufficient deterrent to keep those sorts at bay, so Ghar has been - this. A little paradise, or at least a land unmolested by the trappings of civilization. She grimaced and turned to the north. For those people who managed to avoid the famine Marcus spoke of, at least. Or the inevitable bandits, or sickness-

Civilization does have its appeal, Michael said dryly. I cant imagine you surviving well on turnips and mutton for the rest of your days.

Absolutely not, I dont want to live here. It would be horrid and dangerous, and incredibly dull. She shrugged. But you cant deny that its a pleasant contrast- She paused, her head coming up to focus on the horizon. Her eyes narrowed, then closed. Damn it. I had to go extolling the virtues of a quiet, peaceful land.

Michael looked at her. You see something? he asked. The itching anxiety, momentarily forgotten, made itself known once more.

She nodded irritably. Its got Lucs particular rank scent all over it, too. Institute meddling. A small group, most of a days walk from here. We could probably reach them today, if we leaned on Zabala hard enough.

He pressed his lips together, thinking, then shook his head. No, he said. Well camp close by, then investigate in the day. I want us to be rested before we make a move, and we can surprise them either way.

So reasonable, Sobriquet said, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust. But, fine. Ill be able to snoop on them better once were close by, even without taking the trouble to manifest.

I speak from deep experience when I say that this is the most boring group of fighters Ive ever seen, Sobriquet sighed. Theyre - sitting. Doing nothing. Its no wonder I didnt spot them farther out, theyre barely awake over there.

Zabala grunted. Not doing nothing, he said. If theyre associated with the Ardan advance, theyll be where they are for a reason. Theyll have a purpose - orders. And if theyre not doing anything now, its because the time to execute those orders hasnt come yet. Theyre waiting.

That would tend to corroborate Marcuss claim that an advance is imminent, Michael sighed. He looked up at the first wan traces of sunlight coloring the clouds; today would be overcast. Shit. Do you know, I was still half-hoping that he was leading us on.

You should know better than that by now, Charles muttered. Its always worse than you think. He pushed his bracer forward to his hand, letting the metal flow up and over his fingers. So? We going to go over and ask some questions? Crack some heads?

Michael tapped a finger on his chin.

The place in question turned out to be a small farmstead. Not a decrepit ruin like the buildings they had passed, no - the property looked little different from any farm in Daressa or Ardalt, and put several that Michael had seen to shame. The fields were bare for winter, but had been cleaned of chaff and underbrush. The wall bordering it was stone, good stone, with much of it in mismatched quarried slabs that looked as though it had been stolen piecemeal from the ruin of some building.

The house itself was a mixed construction of stone and timber, with a solidly-mortared foundation and stout walls. Amid the greys and browns of winter, someone had taken the time to place evergreen sprigs along the windows - freshly cut, and hung artfully with string.

Theyre in the house? Michael asked.

Sobriquet waggled her hand. Below it. Theres a root cellar of some sort, or something that used to be one. Now its more like one of our safehouses, from back in Daressa. She stared across the barren field for a long moment, then shook her head. Feels strange to be on this side of things.

These arent freedom fighters, Zabala noted. Theyre spies. Ardan saboteurs. If anything, were saving the Gharic people from subjugation.

Marcus might have a point or two of clarification on that matter, Sobriquet muttered, standing up and rolling her neck. You all ready? She nodded at the quiet affirmations from the others, then turned back to the farmstead. All right.

A short time later, the door to the farmstead burst open. A man stumbled in, clad in an Ardan uniform, bleeding freely from a cut on his arm. The occupants of the house looked up, startled; there was a woman in the houses main room, sweeping the floor, and a man caught midway through sharpening a field knife. He jumped up, knife in hand, and stared warily at the soldier.

No, Michael admitted, rubbing at his sternum. But I would have liked to talk about it first.

Im aware, Sobriquet sighed. We know weve got two days, now, and plenty of work to fill that time. She nodded at the Gharic couple, who were backed into a corner, staring at the bodies on their floor. We should pursue the conversations that are more likely to be productive.

She walked over to stand in front of the pair. The man moved protectively in front of his wife, glaring wordlessly down at Sobriquet.

I am - Sera, she said, extending her hand. Neither of them moved to take it; she let it drop after a moment. Im from Daressa. We fought for years against the Safid and the Ardans both. I know what it is to lose your home to invasion. I know what it is to ally with evil men, because they are the only hope you have to reclaim what was yours.

We know who you are, the man said, not managing to disguise the quaver in his voice. Sobriquet. And we know the evil men youve allied with. We may know them better than you.

She gave them an unimpressed look. It would be a more damning accusation if we hadnt pulled Institute agents from your cellar a moment ago - twisted, warped creatures made in service of a madman. She leaned closer. I ally with whom I must, like anyone, and I dont agree with everything Mendian does. Theyre downright insufferable at times, in fact. But they remain men. You dont know the first thing about these people, Lucius.

The man blinked, his face growing pale. How-

As you said, she murmured. The room took on an unnerving aspect, its shadows deepening. I am Sobriquet. You know the name, did you stop to think about what it means? Lucius. She turned to the woman. Flavia. And the three dead men on the floor were Eric, Udo and Lorenz. Eric was from Calmharbor, Udo from Stahm. And all three of them were laboring to bring death and destruction to Ghar that surpasses anything youve ever known.

Lucius stared back at her, his arm still outstretched. You cant expect me to turn on Ghar because you know our names, he rasped.

Im asking you to help me save Ghar, Sobriquet shot back, plainly exasperated. You know the Mendiko; I know Ardans. Ive been knife-deep in them since I was little, and that was before the country was turned to its current brand of insanity. Your people will suffer under them, Lucius. Not the slow torment of hunger or deprivation, but the bloody terror of soldiers kicking down your door. For food, for Flavia - for the child in her belly.

She looked up at the woman, who had gone equally pale. Congratulations, by the way. She should grow up in a peaceful country. She should know loving parents and a safe home. Ive seen the alternative, and you dont want it. Sobriquets eyes slid back to Lucius. Tell us where the Ardans have landed. Well fight for that peace - and she wont have to.

So she can live her life under a Mendiko boot? Lucius snarled. None of us think this will be clean. The price of life is death, and right now we have neither. Well gain both. Death for us, yes - but life for our children. For Ghar.

Sobriquet looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. You dont understand, she murmured, letting her grip on the room slip away. She took a step back. And I dont think you will, not until its too late. We cant afford to wait that long. We need to know where the Ardans are landing.

She took another step back and looked at Michael. It wont harm them if you ask, will it?

Michael pressed his lips together, looking at the terrified couple. The burn in his chest intensified, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Sobriquet saw his disquiet and shook her head, stepping closer; the embrace of her veil settled around them.

Theyll die, Michael, she said. Even if they survive the fighting, theyll be marked as collaborators once the Ardans have control. People like that dont live happy lives, nor long ones.

His eyes strayed from her to the couple. Despite their refusal, they were plainly terrified; Michael could feel it pulsing from them, a cold echo to the flame scorching his chest. He focused on them, imagining in his minds eye the words he would say as he called upon Spark-

-and fuck you too, Clair snarled, spitting on the ground near Isoldes feet; Vera only smiled and stepped back, spreading her hands.

Were not your enemies, she said, stepping closer. The glint in her eye was irresistible, compelling; the corners of Sibyls tent began to fade. I hope I can convince you of that.

Michael jerked backwards, his arm grabbing reflexively at his chest as the heat flared painfully - then subsided to a low, lingering sting.

Michael? Sobriquet asked, stepping closer; she laid her hand on his arm - and jerked it away as though burned, tottering back with tears in her eyes. She leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

Lars made to step closer, but she waved him off; Michael likewise straightened up with a grimace. He looked at Sobriquet. You felt that? he asked. It was-

Clair, she said.

He nodded slowly, letting his hand drop to his side. Ive felt strange all day, he said. A burning in the lungs, like Ive overexerted myself. He croaked out a small laugh. I had almost forgotten what thats like. But it wasnt that.

Michael took a slow breath; now that he was paying attention he could feel the texture to the burning - small points of flame dancing within him, with one still blazing brighter than the rest. Ive been dwelling on the question of how far is too far, where Luc is concerned. Antolin would say there is no such limit, I know. I had been drawing my lines, and you yours. I think this was Clair drawing hers.

Sobriquets eyes widened. But theyll die, she murmured, looking past Michael, her words not truly meant for him. They all will.

Theres an argument to be made, Michael agreed. But these low souls within me keep some of themselves - perhaps more than I thought. I realized when Galen rejected me that they had all made that choice. To stay, and to keep their light here. Ive been preparing myself to do whatever it takes to stop Luc. Trying to choose a shorter path. He met Sobriquets eyes. Thats not a path Clair will follow.

What does that mean? Sobriquet asked angrily. Shes bound to you. Within you. I can feel her when Im near.

Michael placed his hand on his chest again. I felt the same burning, he said. The fire that consumed me when Galen chose the void, stronger with every moment that I considered using my soul on those two. He found himself smiling, bittersweet; Michael shook his head. I told Leire that she would have to change, or there would be no reconciliation between us. It seems I can change too, and that it has led me far from where I began. He looked back up at Lucius and Flavia; the couple was watching them warily, beginning to fray under the constant strain of their fear.

If I take their decision from them, he said quietly, then I will have no choice but to accept Clairs, and destroy what she gave me.

Sobriquet closed her eyes for a long moment; when she opened them again they sparkled with tears. She was always stubborn, she murmured. To a fault.

Michael nodded. But not usually wrong, he said, looking down at his hand. He splayed his fingers wide, then slowly curled them into a fist. Its odd what a soul does to you. It takes away pieces of you - pieces you dont miss. Fatigue, blindness. He let his hand drop, looking up. Limits. And you dont notice it changing you. Not without something stubborn to remind you.

She closed her eyes again. Luc isnt going to hesitate, Sobriquet said. Hes not going to question what he does, and hes going to get stronger every day. If we hold back, and its not enough to stop him-

There are only two outcomes, Michael said. Good men win, or evil men do. It doesnt matter much if one tyrant falls and another takes his place. He shook his head. So we take a longer path, one that we can all walk, and trust that well find our way there in the end. He stepped closer to Sobriquet, putting his arms around her. Look at them. You dont want to do this to them either.

Of course not! she retorted. But now what? Ghars fucking - fuck this stupid shitty country, you cant even curse properly here without it sounding stupid. She rammed her head into his chest, hugging him tightly. Theyre going to die, Michael. Theyre going to die and their daughter will grow up broken and shitty, a killer who could have been a thousand better things, and we could stop it, and now we cant. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt. And its going to happen all over again.

Michael held her close, letting his answer be the flame swelling in his chest; Clairs gentle warmth spread around them both. As it died away he stepped back and motioned for Sobriquet to drop her veil. Were leaving, he said. Same course as before, except now weve got our timetable.

Zabala jerked his head towards Lucius and Flavia. And these two?

These two should find somewhere else to be, Michael said. Far from the war, when it comes. He nodded to each of them in turn, then walked out the door of the beautiful farmhouse.